Land of My Heart

by Tracie Peterson

  It seemed natural that Cole’s thoughts went to Dianne Chadwick. Her sisters had died on the trail, and each time he’d most uncomfortably played a part in their search or discovery. Still, in spite of her adversity, Cole had never seen anyone as strong as Dianne. She took the blows life dealt her and managed through them. It wasn’t that she could just accept anything that came along; it was more that she possessed an incredible ability to reconcile each situation and realistically recover enough to proceed with forward momentum. It was a lesson Cole would have done well to learn.

  Cole moved out across the open field and began climbing toward Boot Hill. He didn’t believe Susannah Chadwick could have made it this far, but there was always that possibility, and as long as a chance existed, he had to check it out.

  With a gentle sweep of his feet, Cole studied each mound, each rounded drift, but to no avail. The snow grew deeper, making it even harder to maneuver, and with the light fading and night coming on, Cole decided to head back to town and see if there had been any word.

  His stomach rumbled loudly as he realized he’d not eaten since breakfast. He made his way to Armstrong’s Store, where everyone had agreed to check in. He hoped there might be word of Susannah’s rescue— he found himself close to praying that she had been located at a neighboring cabin or even taken to the hospital.

  “Found her yet?” Cole asked as he entered the small store.

  “Not that I’ve heard,” the clerk replied.

  Cole nodded and glanced around. “You got any of that jerked beef they brought up from Salt Lake?”

  The man shook his head. “’Fraid not. Sold out of that almost as soon as I offered it for sale.”

  Cole decided to forego eating. As soon as they called off the search for the night, he’d make his way over to the small caf at the end of the street and have something hot. That would set better anyway, he reasoned.

  Pulling his collar up, Cole again braved the winter air as he stepped back into the street. He’d no sooner walked to the end of the block when he heard a commotion coming from down the way. He hurried, hoping it might mean good news.

  “They found her,” an old-timer told him as he approached the gathering crowd. “Froze to death.”

  Cole’s heart sank. He immediately thought of how hard this news would be for Dianne.

  “They took her to the undertaker, but it’ll take days to thaw her out,” the man said, dribbling tobacco juice as he rambled on. “I saw that happen a few years back. Never could get the man to thaw. They built a fire and—”

  “Thanks,” Cole muttered and made his way around the old man.

  He knew he had to find Zane and Morgan and let them know if they hadn’t already heard. He walked the short distance to the undertaker’s and found the boys already there.

  “I just heard,” he told them as he pulled the hat from his head.

  Zane nodded. “We were just getting ready to go tell Dianne.” His face was void of emotion, but his voice cracked even as he spoke.

  “She’s going to blame herself,” Morgan said, shaking his head.

  They walked outside and Cole found it a natural thing to just walk with them. “I’m sorry it couldn’t be better news.”

  Zane shrugged, but Cole wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or his indifference to the comment.

  They walked on in silence to the little cabin. Cole felt a growing misery in his heart. Why did this country have to be so hard on folks? Why did people have to suffer and lose the ones they loved?

  The door to the cabin opened and Dianne stepped out. Cole figured she’d been watching or else someone had already come with the news. She looked at each of them, meeting their eyes, studying their faces. It was enough. She burst into tears and buried her face in her hands. Cole hadn’t known until that moment that he’d come to care about her. He didn’t want to care about her, however.

  Without warning or word, he turned from the cabin and walked away as quickly as he could without actually running.

  “I won’t feel anything for her or any other woman,” he muttered. “I can’t afford to feel anything for anyone.”

  CHAPTER 23

  TWO MONTHS HAD PASSED SINCE THEIR MOTHER HAD BEEN FOUND dead. March was nearly upon them, but still there seemed to be no end in sight to cold weather and snow. Dianne found the days slow and impossible to tolerate. She thought she might go mad except for the company of her Bible. God seemed her only refuge and companion, especially when Zane and Morgan were gone sometimes weeks at a time on the freight route.

  More than once she’d begged them to give up the job and find a way to get to their uncle. She felt confident that Uncle Bram would take them in now that their mother had passed away. He wouldn’t want them living in the rough mining town alone. Especially if it meant Dianne would spend so much time by herself.

  She tried not to be overly troublesome about her fears, but she felt Zane and Morgan needed to understand. One night after supper, when both the boys were home, Dianne had firmly asked them to remain seated at the table while she spoke her piece.

  “This town isn’t safe for me. I want to go live with Uncle Bram. You two can do whatever you like, but I need your help in getting me settled.”

  “When spring comes round, we’ll get in touch with him,” Morgan had told her. “He’ll come for his mail and then you’ll have a chance to tell him face to face.”

  “Besides,” Zane added, “there’s probably no one in town who even knows how to make their way to Uncle Bram’s place, much less who would be willing to risk the possibility of a blizzard coming up just to take a message when it’s not even a matter of life and death.”

  Morgan nodded. “Yeah, be sensible about it, Dianne.”

  “I thought I was being sensible. I can’t be confined to this cabin day in and day out until spring thaw, but going to town always presents a risk. Most folks are decent, law-abiding citizens, but there are an awful lot of men whose favorite pastimes are drinking and gambling.”

  “Well, it’s hard to pan for gold in the winter. Some of them are down there working day and night to thaw the tiniest bits of ground in order to sluice a bit for tobacco money and food. Some have given up,” Zane told her as if she didn’t already know.

  “Yes, and some of them have grown desperate—tired of the cold and lack of provisions. There are still plenty of thieves and rowdies. It isn’t safe for me to go to town alone, but you two go off for days, even weeks at a time with your freighting duties.”

  “It’s slowed considerably with winter. We’re not gone nearly as often,” Morgan protested.

  “Maybe not as often, but it’s certain you’re gone for longer periods of time. Do you have any idea how lonely I get?” Dianne asked. “I sit here day in and day out with nothing but memories and the cold.”

  “We’re sorry,” Zane said, shaking his head, “but the work is steady and good, and if Morgan and I are to make our own way come summer, we need to have enough money to buy supplies.”

  “We have money left over from the sale,” Dianne complained. “You could take whatever you need from that.”

  Morgan and Zane exchanged a glance, then Zane replied, “We kind of hoped to use that money to send you back to Missouri.”

  “Missouri? What would I do in Missouri?” Dianne asked. “We don’t even know if Trenton is still in town. It’s hardly proper for me to go living by myself, although I suppose I’m doing just that here in Virginia City.” Her tone was bitter, although she tried hard not to feel that way.

  “Look, you’ve got friends in New Madrid. People care about you and would probably take you in. Especially if you had money to give them,” Morgan stated firmly. He pushed his dirty hair back and got to his feet. “At least think about it.”

  Dianne didn’t argue with them as they seemed to leave her little room for it. The conversation, now a week behind them, seemed to mark the entire subject as unapproachable.

  Dianne grieved over her situation but made the best of it d
espite her brothers’ attitudes. She busied herself with whatever she could find to do—mending, baking, sewing on a new quilt. In spite of her concerns about the rowdies, she daily walked to town, checked in at the post office for letters, then made her way to the dry goods store to see if any new shipments might have made their way through the snowy passes.

  Today she felt particularly blessed to find several books, and while they were outrageously priced and obviously used, desperation caused her to buy three. She’d never been much of a reader, but time left to herself had greatly improved her abilities.

  “When you’re done with them, I’d be happy to buy them back,” the shopkeeper told her. “Folks will be glad to have them.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said as she counted out her money.

  Dianne put the books in an old flour sack she used as a shopping bag. It made carrying her purchases much easier, although there were times when she would have much preferred a more stable basket.

  Exiting the store, Dianne wondered when spring might come to Virginia City. She longed for endless summer days where the sun would beat down upon her. Lifting her face to the sky, Dianne tried to imagine how good it would feel.

  “Whatcha lookin’ for up there?” a man asked her.

  Dianne looked down to see a trio of men standing before her. The one who’d spoken had matted red hair that stuck out from the bottom of his filthy fur cap. He didn’t look all that old—probably no older than her brothers.

  “I was just looking for the sun,” Dianne said.

  “If you’re lookin’ to warm up a bit, I could help you out,” said one of the man’s equally dirty companions. He laughed as if he’d told a great joke and elbowed the man beside him.

  “Uh, no thank you.” She moved past the men and continued down the walk.

  “Now, wait a minute. We’re decent fellows. Maybe we haven’t had a bath in a month of Sundays, but it don’t mean we can’t be sociable. I even know how to dance,” the redheaded fellow declared, coming up alongside Dianne.

  She might have smiled had she not been painfully reminded of the day her father had been shot and killed. The situation had been much too similar for comfort.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have time to talk or dance. I must make supper for my brothers.”

  “Ah, surely they can spare you,” the third of their associates finally spoke. In his bravery, he reached out to take hold of Dianne’s flour sack. “I can carry this for you and—”

  “Give that back!” Dianne declared, reaching for the bag. The men laughed and tossed the parcel from one to the other.

  “If you come home with us, you can have it back.”

  “She can have it back now.”

  Dianne stopped immediately at the sound of the voice. She turned to find Cole Selby once again at her defense. She paused, uncertain of what she should do. The three men were close enough to cause her harm if they wished. The redheaded man held her flour sack while the other two seemed quite interested in what Cole wanted.

  “You one of her brothers?”

  “It really isn’t any of your business who I am. Now give her back the sack and get on back to whatever hole you crawled out of,” Cole demanded, pushing his brown felt hat back just a bit.

  Dianne’s skin began to tingle. She thought of her father again. Cole seemed completely at ease with the situation, however. In fact, he moved closer to her, putting himself almost in reach of the men.

  Without warning, the red-haired man dropped the sack and threw a punch. Cole easily dodged it while pushing Dianne out of the way at the same time. Dianne fell backward, landing quite unladylike on the boardwalk.

  The three men threw punches at Cole without thought to the unfairness of the match. Cole tried his best to duck and bob away from the throws, but from time to time the men made connection with his face. Cole, in turn, landed his own strikes, bloodying the nose of one man and leaving another rather dazed.

  Dianne grimaced with each strike, praying that no one would pull a gun. She scooted away from the fight and got back to her feet, all the while watching Cole.

  “What’s going on here?” a voice boomed.

  Dianne looked past Cole to see a big barrel-chested man come forward. “Haven’t I told you boys to stay out of trouble?”

  Dianne had no idea who the man was, but the three men who’d given her so much grief seemed to fairly tremble in his presence. They immediately stopped fighting and stood at attention.

  “They accosted me, and this man came to my rescue,” Dianne interjected, hoping Cole wouldn’t find himself with a bigger job to handle.

  The redhead looked as though he’d just as soon the ground open up and swallow him. “We didn’t mean no harm, Pa. We were just funnin’ with the lady.”

  “We don’t fun with ladies,” the man replied. He turned to Dianne and tipped his hat. “My apologies, ma’am. My boys suffer from powerful poor manners. Their ma, God rest her soul, died young.”

  He looked back at the three young men and frowned. “I think apologies are in order.”

  The redheaded man picked up the flour sack and handed it to Dianne. “Sorry, ma’am.” He lowered his head and moved to stand behind his father. The other two came in turn, blushing furiously and looking nothing like the rascals they had been only moments before.

  “Sorry,” they said in unison.

  The big man turned to Cole. “Mister, I’m sorry my boys bloodied your lip. You’re welcome to have a free throw at each of them.”

  Dianne wanted to laugh at the shocked expressions on the faces of the man’s sons. She watched as Cole frowned, then shook his head. “I’m not much for fighting. Just didn’t want to see the lady hurt.”

  The big man nodded. “You’re an honorable sort.” He then turned and grabbed two of his sons by their ears. “When I get you three home, we’re going to have a discussion about the way we act in town. I swear, if your poor ma were alive to see such things she’d whip you within an inch of your life.”

  He continued to harangue them all the way down the street. Dianne giggled, but as soon as she turned to Cole and saw his lip was swollen and bleeding, she stopped. “Come on with me. I’ll get you fixed up.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” he said softly. Reaching up, he wiped at his mouth.

  “I’d really feel better if you’d let me clean that up. Besides, you can further your gallantry and walk me safely home,” Dianne said, clutching her books.

  Cole nodded. “I will walk you home, but …”

  Dianne smiled. “I have some stew simmering. Maybe you’d like to stay and have a meal with me.” It seemed strange to be suggesting such a thing, but Dianne pushed aside any feelings of impropriety.

  “You don’t need to go to any trouble,” Cole replied. “Here, let me carry your sack.” He waited while she handed over the bag.

  Dianne could tell he really wanted to say yes, so she began walking toward her cabin. “Zane and Morgan are working and it’s hard to say when they’ll get back. In more cultured environments I’m sure it would never be appropriate for you to take a meal alone with me, but I really don’t care what folks think. Are you worried about it?”

  “I don’t care what anyone thinks,” Cole replied, keeping pace with her quickening steps.

  “Good. I haven’t had anyone to talk to in over two weeks. The freight company can never guarantee whether they’ll get through the passes and back to Virginia City. Sometimes the boys are away for what seems like forever.”

  “One of them ought to be here with you.”

  “I agree. And I’ve told them so.” As the snow deepened along her street, Dianne slowed her steps. Without questioning her for permission, Cole took hold of her elbow. “The money is good, though. Not only that, but I think Zane and Morgan would go stark raving mad if they had to be stuck in the cabin all day.”

  “I can understand that. I’m not doing so well waiting for spring thaw myself.”

  Dianne made her way up the litt
le path to the cabin. “Any idea when the weather will warm up?”

  “Nope. I was helping with the wagon train this time last year. At least, I was helping Daniel to get to St. Louis.”

  Dianne stopped and looked at him for a moment. “You’re right. I hadn’t realized it’s been almost a year since we left Missouri and the war.”

  “War’s about to be concluded,” Cole said as she turned to push open the door. “Maybe now we’ll be able to see a time of peace and prosperity in this country. Maybe then you’ll feel free to return to your home.”

  Dianne held open the door and waited until Cole stepped inside to answer. “I don’t have a home—not really. My only family is here, with exception to my oldest brother, Trenton. I haven’t heard from him so I don’t even know if he’s alive.” She took off her coat and motioned Cole to do the same. The aroma of the stew was welcoming to Dianne. She had skipped breakfast that morning and now felt quite ravenous.

  “I’ll take care of your face first, and then we can eat,” she told Cole. “That is, if you aren’t afraid of my cooking. I’ve improved a bit since my days on the trail.”

  Cole smiled. “You were as green as they come. You had nowhere to go but up, as far as improving was concerned.”

  Dianne smiled. He really wasn’t nearly the ill-tempered oaf she’d once thought him to be. Maybe the winter months in Montana had helped him mature. Or maybe she was the one who’d matured.

  “I guess the frontier has a way of growing you up,” Dianne said rather thoughtfully.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Cole said, growing sober again.

  Dianne pulled out a chair. She didn’t want to give him time to change his mind. They might have had their differences, but she was glad for the company. “Sit here while I get some ice.”

  She waited until he’d actually taken a seat before going outside. She hadn’t bothered with her coat and when the breeze picked up, she immediately regretted her decision. The cold was different here in the mountains. It was a drier cold than what she’d experienced back in Missouri; nevertheless, it had a way of cutting through the skin. Giving a shiver, Dianne picked up a small metal container and hurried back to the house.